It was an interesting group, women from Europe and North America, gathered to share their experiences in adapting to a nation where life was strangely similar, but sometimes wildly different from life in their original countries. They ranged from grandmothers to girls in their twenties, and the discussion was fascinating.
The olot vatikot – old immigrants – agreed that the country has changed a lot since they arrived. They didn’t always agree on whether those changes were for the better. The economy had flourished and the population had grown and become more diversified as Israel welcomed people from Arabic-speaking countries, the former Soviet Union and Ethiopia, but they said that something had been lost.
There was a lot of laughter, advice given and received and coping strategies shared, but when the conversation took a romantic turn, I changed from participant to listener. Some of the women had come to Israel with husbands; others had found life partners here. But most of the younger women were, as they put it, “out there,” and they had a lot to say about The Young Israeli Male. Very handsome and well-built they were indeed, “and they know it.” Their self-confidence could border on arrogance, some said. Their directness was welcome, but too often slid into rudeness, and what some guys expected from a relationship was very different from what they were prepared to put into one.
I was reminded of my first encounter with The Israeli Male, way back in 1984. It was my first visit to Israel. My daughter was on a gap year program which she was enjoying very much, but I missed her a lot. When El Al offered a special introductory fare, I took advantage of it and had a lovely visit both with her, and on my own when she was in class. When it was time to leave I caught the last bus to Tel Aviv. Arriving late at night at the almost-deserted bus station was a bit daunting, so when a cab came by I hailed it, grateful for an English-speaking driver. He was a middle-aged man, very friendly and voluble, and he asked the questions I had grown used to answering: “ Was it my first trip to Israel?” Yes. “What brought me here?” I was visiting my daughter who was studying in Jerusalem. “What had I seen?” I told him. “What do I think of ‘our little country’?” Beautiful, marvelous, very friendly people.
They came an unexpected question; “Your husband doesn’t mind your traveling here all alone?” I was surprised enough and tired enough to answer honestly that I no longer had one, whereupon, without missing a beat, he asked if I would be interested in seeing a film with him next day. Again I told the truth, that I would be leaving next morning from Ben Gurion Airport. “Well, you’ll need a taxi. When is your flight?” I told him, and said he’d send his son-in-law to pick me up from my hotel next morning.
He was as good as his word, Not only did my flight begin well, I had a terrific story to tell when I got home.
Zelda Dvoretzky
Zelda Dvoretzky was born in New Jersey and grew up in New York. She earned degrees from City College of New York and the University of Michigan, after which she wrote copy for the electronic and print media, and worked in public relations, editing and teaching. She retired to Haifa in 1997, is a member of Haifa Writers, Israel, an organization of writers of poetry in English, and the Haifa Chamber Choir. Zelda stays busy learning Hebrew, teaching English, and keeping in touch with grandchildren, family and friends in Texas, California, and, of course, Haifa. zeldahaifa@gmail.com
The olot vatikot – old immigrants – agreed that the country has changed a lot since they arrived. They didn’t always agree on whether those changes were for the better. The economy had flourished and the population had grown and become more diversified as Israel welcomed people from Arabic-speaking countries, the former Soviet Union and Ethiopia, but they said that something had been lost.
There was a lot of laughter, advice given and received and coping strategies shared, but when the conversation took a romantic turn, I changed from participant to listener. Some of the women had come to Israel with husbands; others had found life partners here. But most of the younger women were, as they put it, “out there,” and they had a lot to say about The Young Israeli Male. Very handsome and well-built they were indeed, “and they know it.” Their self-confidence could border on arrogance, some said. Their directness was welcome, but too often slid into rudeness, and what some guys expected from a relationship was very different from what they were prepared to put into one.
I was reminded of my first encounter with The Israeli Male, way back in 1984. It was my first visit to Israel. My daughter was on a gap year program which she was enjoying very much, but I missed her a lot. When El Al offered a special introductory fare, I took advantage of it and had a lovely visit both with her, and on my own when she was in class. When it was time to leave I caught the last bus to Tel Aviv. Arriving late at night at the almost-deserted bus station was a bit daunting, so when a cab came by I hailed it, grateful for an English-speaking driver. He was a middle-aged man, very friendly and voluble, and he asked the questions I had grown used to answering: “ Was it my first trip to Israel?” Yes. “What brought me here?” I was visiting my daughter who was studying in Jerusalem. “What had I seen?” I told him. “What do I think of ‘our little country’?” Beautiful, marvelous, very friendly people.
They came an unexpected question; “Your husband doesn’t mind your traveling here all alone?” I was surprised enough and tired enough to answer honestly that I no longer had one, whereupon, without missing a beat, he asked if I would be interested in seeing a film with him next day. Again I told the truth, that I would be leaving next morning from Ben Gurion Airport. “Well, you’ll need a taxi. When is your flight?” I told him, and said he’d send his son-in-law to pick me up from my hotel next morning.
He was as good as his word, Not only did my flight begin well, I had a terrific story to tell when I got home.
Zelda Dvoretzky
Zelda Dvoretzky was born in New Jersey and grew up in New York. She earned degrees from City College of New York and the University of Michigan, after which she wrote copy for the electronic and print media, and worked in public relations, editing and teaching. She retired to Haifa in 1997, is a member of Haifa Writers, Israel, an organization of writers of poetry in English, and the Haifa Chamber Choir. Zelda stays busy learning Hebrew, teaching English, and keeping in touch with grandchildren, family and friends in Texas, California, and, of course, Haifa. zeldahaifa@gmail.com
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